


A Backward Glance

by Cuda (Scylla)



Category: Supernatural, Superwho - Fandom, Superwood - Fandom, Torchwood
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, De-Aged Dean Winchester, De-Aged Sam Winchester, Harkstiel, M/M, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 07:46:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2724356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scylla/pseuds/Cuda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the Holiday Harkstiel Advent. Intergalactic bounty hunters are after Sam and Dean Winchester, after he helpfully provided his location on a dating app profile. What's more, they've used extraterrestrial technology to render the boys less threatening, along with the entire adult population of Lebanon, Kansas.  It's up to Castiel and Jack to ride herd on two very small Winchesters and - as Castiel put it - keep them from putting sharp objects in their mouths. God knows they try it often enough as adults.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Backward Glance

When Castiel said that humans were ALL children to him, he didn't mean it figuratively. He meant it in experience and shortsighted mortal mentality. Today, he looked back fondly on those moments of easy superiority.

Dean squirmed in his arms and let out an earsplitting yell. For a thirty-pound creature, his cries were of a decibel level to rival some power tools.

Castiel shushed him, which of course did nothing, and he found himself wondering if the parents who did these sorts of things had more faith in magic than he'd have expected. Either Dean Winchester was an especially recalcitrant toddler, or parents everywhere were saying and doing things to quiet their children merely as a self-soother, or an illustrated example of insanity. "Dean," Castiel said sternly, "this accomplishes nothing." He dodged a small, flying fist. "And neither does that. Sam is coming back! I promise you!"

"He's right here, Dean." Jack walked into the Bunker's greatroom to join him, leading Sam. He had one tiny fist wrapped around Jack's finger, the other stuffed in his mouth, and toddled on unsteady legs.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled, and morphed into a hurricane of flying arms and legs. Castiel put him down abruptly with a sigh of relief, and watched with a mix of irritation and amusement as Dean scooped up Sam and stalked off with him, after casting them a furious scowl.

"Yeah?" Jack shook his head, "How about YOU change his diaper next time, Dean?"

"I will!" Dean hollered back, before disappearing behind a bookcase.

Jack and Castiel exchanged a wry look and followed their tiny charges after a beat. They peered around the corner of the bookcase, to find both boys jammed against the wall, whispering to each other while Dean checked that Jack hadn't absconded with any of Sam's fingers. He hadn't noticed them yet, so Castiel gestured Jack back around the corner.

"They'll be fine for the moment," he said, when they were a few steps away, "and I much prefer the quiet."

Jack laughed. He pulled a chair away from the large central table for Castiel. "Have a seat, soldier."

"Any word from the Doctor?" Castiel asked, as he collapsed gratefully into the offered seat and closed his eyes. He wasn't… tired per se, but he was glad of the momentary peace. The boys couldn't get into that much trouble in here. The most dangerous parts of the Bunker's collections were locked away in other rooms. Except for their OWN rooms, Castiel noted, which were both impressive arsenals of blades and firearms.

Jack threw himself into the next chair, and draped in a boneless sprawl. "Yes," he said, "Last I heard, the Doctor's onto whoever turned Lebanon into a daycare center. He also gave us a job."

"Besides ensuring the Winchesters don't put any sharp objects in their mouths?" Castiel asked dryly.

"We need to find Dean's profile on whatever…" his lip curled a little, "…'dating app' he's joined, and scrub it. Then we need to destroy that phone." His head sagged over the arm of the chair, onto Castiel's shoulder. "Do you think we could get away with repainting that car of his another color? Like red or something? Would he notice?"

Castiel rolled his eyes. "He'd notice."

"It was worth a shot."

"Dean's phone is likely in the hip pocket of the jeans he was wearing at the time of his transformation. I'll locate it. Is the app responsible?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "The app? No. You realize that Dean Winchester putting his location on the Internet was tantamount to a suicide attempt? Is Winchester REALLY that stupid?"

Castiel huffed as he moved away from the table. "Generally, no. These days, I'm not certain."

Jack kicked his feet up onto the edge of the table. "Bounty hunters. Apparently someone out for those boys has the wherewithal and the know-how to put an intergalactic bounty on their heads. They must have guessed a couple kids would be easier to snag."

Castiel looked back towards the bookshelves, where Dean's round face peered suspiciously around the corner. The freckles across his nose stood out like crayon marks. 

"I don't believe you," Dean said. His lower jaw jutted until Castiel was inclined to argue on principle.

"Yes," Castiel replied testily, "you make a habit of that."

"Hunters don't want to come after Sammy and me!" Dean continued, "Hunters are good people. They fight monsters."

"Not these hunters, kid," Jack answered lazily.

Dean shot a sour look at the back of Jack's head. "Yeah. Only monsters say things like that." For a child, his voice was ugly.

Jack went still, then dropped his boots quietly to the floor. "You know, Winchester, I didn't like—" He turned, looked right into Castiel's pleading expression, and bit down on whatever it was he'd planned to say.

"Didn't like what?" Dean demanded, narrow chest puffed out and hands stuffed in his pockets. Castiel looked from Dean to Jack, and thought about whether knocking them both out qualified as a 'peaceful solution.'

"—The hunters you're talking about, kid. At first," Jack amended hastily, "but I agree. Lots of hunters are good people. Except there's hunters who chase money, and that's about as bad as monsters sometimes."

"Bounty hunters just want money?"

"Yes," Castiel nodded, "and they want to take you and Sam so they can get it."

Castiel wasn't sure of the means by which the bounty hunters made Dean a child; if they'd returned him to an earlier mentality, or if they'd reduced his current memories and thoughts into a child brain. He hoped it was the former; if not, and they triggered Dean's memories of hell, it could break him. Either way, the speed at which Dean grasped Castiel's offered concept was heartbreaking. His lips twisted into a ghost of the jaded grin Dean Winchester wore every day. Asking the world who was next in line to clock him. Asking if anybody else needed a piece of him.

"We're staying down here with you to keep them away," Castiel added. When Dean's expression flashed suspicion again, he backtracked. "All we ask is that you stay where we can see you, inside the Bunker."

Sam toddled around the corner and hung onto Dean's hip. He looked up at Castiel with wise, worried eyes.

"Don't take Sammy away again," Dean demanded.

"Next time," Castiel promised, "you can come along."

This satisfied Dean, although he still seemed to harbor some concerns about Jack. Not that Castiel could really blame him, he HAD kidnapped Sam. Jack found Dean a heavy pewter cigar lighter shaped like a Bugatti with wheels that really turned, which he and Sam took turns pushing along the floor in the greatroom. Meanwhile, Castiel located Dean's cellular phone, which Jack broke into in minutes. They went about deleting his profile, and Jack employed a kernel of the Torchwood software to scrub all traces of Sam and Dean from the Internet. Castiel took perhaps an unnecessary pleasure in destroying the phone when it was no longer needed, but he and technology had an adversarial relationship. Jack changed Sam once more before evening, and this time taught Dean how to do it himself. Castiel watched from the doorway, asea in unfamiliar emotions.

Dinner was a simple affair of canned soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, which both boys seemed to like very much. Dean insisted on helping with all steps of the process, and all of Sam's bedtime rituals as well. By the time he was ready for his own bed, Castiel could no longer be annoyed. Dean Winchester was still arrogant and high handed, but the innocence in him was… charming. A glimmer of the brave soul he'd carried from Hell, with its good intent and a kind heart.

Dean consented to share his bedroom with the adults, provided Sam stayed with him too. When sleeping quarters had been settled for the night, Castiel lay in Jack's arms, watching the cot where his charges slept. He laced his fingers with Jack's and squeezed. Jack made a quiet, questioning sound, and Castiel leaned into him.

"There are parts of these boys that I miss," Castiel murmured, "I didn't let myself think about it until now."

"I bet," Jack replied, "I've been there too." He didn't elaborate, and Castiel chose not to ask. Part of him worried that there was no solution; part of him ached that these innocent boys would vanish.

"Do you have faith in the Doctor?" Castiel asked, after the silence stretched out thin. Jack shifted against Castiel's back, tucking himself a little closer.

"Yes," Jack said without hesitation, "with everything I have. I want to be out there looking."

"I need you here," Castiel insisted, "I can't care for human children. They'll die in my charge. Unless you can find a suitable replacement," he amended, not wanting to sound dependent. 

Jack relaxed again. "Nah, you're right. It just doesn't feel right. Normally I'd be out there doing something. I hate holding patterns."

Castiel chuckled without intending to. "My existence is a series of holding patterns," he said, "interspersed with some spectacular failed takeoffs."

"Oh, Castiel," Jack sighed, a smile in his voice, "I think you're flying just fine."

"You guys quit acting twitterpated," Dean's grumble broke the quiet, "Some've us gotta sleep."

"Tweerpate," Sam agreed firmly.

Even if Castiel could sleep, he expected it would have been difficult.

-

The next morning, things were back to normal; as if somehow Sam and Dean slept off their own youth. The doctor called Jack while the Winchesters scrubbed deep embarrassment and the red lines of constricting toddler pants from their skin. He reported that the bounty hunters were handled, their 'de-aging thingamajig' confiscated, and all the residents of Lebanan, Kansas returned to normal. None of them seemed to have any memory of the previous two days. Probably for the best. Castiel couldn't imagine what had happened, and felt guilty about going to ground with his own boys, instead of trying to help.

Dean came into the greatroom as Jack hung up. His wet hair stuck up in spikes, expression cool and flat as always. He caught Castiel watching. "What?" He demanded.

Castiel shook his head quickly. "I'm sorry," he said, "I was thinking of something else."

"Like how I woke up this morning busting out of size zero flannel jammies?" Dean said, "I know you two are into some freaky kinky crap but I'm pretty sure that's out of your ballpark."

Sam slouched into the greatroom, ruffling his damp hair with a towel. "Mature, Dean. What are you, five?" he observed. He got no further than that, as Jack collapsed into exhausted laughter.

Sensitivity and tact were abruptly no longer Castiel's highest priorities. "Intergalactic bounty hunters found your location via your Internet profile," he said bluntly, "they turned you and the rest of Lebanon into… easier targets."

Sam blinked slowly at Castiel. "Kids? You mean I was really wearing a—" his voice faded off short of the word.

"I changed you," Jack volunteered. When Dean's snickers became audible, he added, "Dean helped."

"I think I need another shower," Dean grumped.

"The WHOLE town?" Sam abruptly changed the subject, "Are they okay? I mean, a town full of kids for—"

"—Two days," Castiel supplied.

"—for two days means they could have burned the thing down by now."

Jack went for his coat. "Then how about we do something productive, and find out?"

Relieved that the conversation was at an end, Castiel joined him. "I agree." The Winchesters hurried after them, eager to pretend the missing two days hadn't happened.

Castiel could sympathize.


End file.
